| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead
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| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead
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| Yeah, the baby blue coupe looks like baby food
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| My diamonds jumping out the gym since preschool
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| You a typewriter, I’m the type to collect titles
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| Yeah, Versace gingivitis, diamonds on my pacifier
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| I even as a youth crushed jewels upon my tooth
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| Throw the car seat out the roof, I hit the state troops
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| I finessed the Jaguar, I candy coated my car
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| I got Butterfinger interior, intercept a miracle
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| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead
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| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead
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| If I had to take a L, take it on the chin (mhm)
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| Lennox Lewis ting (bling), all I do is win (bling)
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| Seattle for my bling (ice), all you hear is 'shing' (wow)
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| Chicken wing swing when I’m dancing with my ting
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| You think you’re scary? |
| I’m dead already
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| My funeral was amazing, it was beautiful (sex)
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| Doves flying, brothers blazing in the cubicles (s'matter?)
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| Fakes crying, rest in peace, they’re so delusional
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| But I know that’s the usual, I’m back from the dead
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| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead
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| Back from the dead, back from the dead
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| Back from the, back from the dead |